Jonathan and Timea
by myska-na-mrazu
Summary: Cpt. Archer's second visit to Risa, this time with a different setting and a different outcome. Slightly erotic.


The tiny noise would have melted into the background hadn't it been for Porthos, who lifted his head and, when the noise persisted, barked out. His master looked up from the book he had just opened, and realised the noise was the sound of someone trying to unlock the door of his room with a wrong key.

He got up and went to investigate.

The girl on the other side of the door was quite startled when he opened the door.

„Who are you?" she asked, perplexed. „What are you doing in my...?"

Before she could finish the sentence, she seemed to know the answer already. She looked into his eyes, then at the tag of her key, then lifted her eyes again to the door number.

She opened her mouth, but was unable to utter a single word. With something that resembled „sorry" she ran away. Jonathan smiled involuntarily, closed the door again and returned to his book.

He woke up to another lovely Risan morning and decided to have breakfast on the balcony of the dining hall to enjoy the view and the fresh air before the temperatures shot up. And there she was, sitting alone at a table and studying the horizon so thoroughly he would have sworn she was looking for something there.

„May I join you?" he asked.

A hand carrying a cup of tea to her lips froze. Her steel grey eyes looked somewhat frightened and he was sure her cheeks showed evidence of blushing when she saw who adressed her.

„Please," she offered him a seat opposite. „I'm so sorry for last night," she went on when he sat down. „It was totally embarrassing. At least one day without awkward situations would be nice, but no, the universe won't have it."

„It's all right," he smiled. „Happens to the best of us."

„Maybe occasionally. But it's the second time I got the floor wrong."

„No damage done..."

„You'd be surprised at the state of my ego after these encounters," she smiled eventually.

„What were you looking for there?" he nodded towards the horizon.

„A hidden island," she shrugged, and when he gave her a questioning look, she went on: „I'm a paintor. I was trying to get to understand the essence of the place."

„Sounds interesting. My name is Jonathan Archer, by the way," he seized the opportunity to introduce himself.

„Timea Hazenthay."

„Nice to meet you," he assured her.

„Likewise."

„Is this the first time you're here?"

"It is the first time I've been to this region. My second time on the planet."

"I take it you haven't seen much of the city then? How about I make up for the embarrassment last night by giving you a tour?"

"There's no need to make up for anything," he shook his head. "But you're right, I'd love it if you showed me around."

"Ok, how about I pick you up after lunch? I already know where your room is," she smiled, still somewhat embarrassed at the recollection of what this piece of information had cost her.

"That would be lovely. Thank you."

"I'll see you later, then," she smiled again, put aside the napkin she'd been scribbling on for the past few minutes, and left.

Jonathan watched her until she left the dining hall and then turned back to the table and picked up the napkin. He was looking at his own face.

She knocked this time. It was shortly after the lunch hours and he had just finished preparing for the outing. He had decided to leave Porthos behind this time, and his four-legged friend seemed to be ok with this decision, since Jonathan managed to exhaust him on the beach in the morning.

"I guess you come here often, then?" he inquired while walking by her side to the staircase.

"I've grown attached to this place. There's a lot of inspiration here. I try to come here at least every other year."

He could see why she'd say that. He "grew attached" to the city within the first twenty minutes of the tour, and that was just the beginning. It turned out she had saved the real gem for the end of their wandering about.

"What is this place?" he asked when she stopped at the entrance to what looked like a palace with very small windows from the outside.

"A place that calms down and enlightens," she smiled mysteriously and led him in.

It was a spa of sorts. Its floors and walls were tiled with delicate glazed mosaics and the main room they entered (after she took off her shoes and made him do the same) was full of circular pools arranged in a pleasant pattern.

Many people bathed in the pools, and Jonathan took a bit of a shock when he noticed that all of them were bare naked, both genders intermixed, while no one apparently saw this as a problem.

"Did you take me here to get back at me?" he looked at her, visibly discomforted.

"I don't see how I could do that. Last night was my fault," she reminded him.

"Then what are we here for? You can't expect me to participate in this…" he showed around the chamber with his arm.

"Not here. Come with me," she took him by the hand and led him to one of the smaller chambers. There was a single rectangular pool laid with tiny dark blue and golden tiles. The ones on the walls were of different shades of light blue, and the high ceiling white-washed. Small windows near the ceiling were letting in just enough light to make them see comfortably. They were alone here, and the silence was quite embracing.

Timea kneeled at the pool and ran her hand through the calm surface of the water. It sent shiny ripples all over the walls and the ceiling. The girl looked up at Jonathan and whispered: "Serenity. That's what I come here for."

He nodded.

"Let's take a bath," she proposed.

"I'm not going in there naked," he protested.

"I wasn't suggesting you should. But I wouldn't go there dressed too much," she advised him and began taking off her own clothes. She slid into the pool in her underwear, a matching set of dark violet with silver embroidering. There was just enough water to leave her shoulders uncovered. He followed her. The water was pleasantly warm, and he felt like it had positive effect on his body from the second he touched it. Timea's dark golden hair was floating around her like fresh, viscous honey.

"Come," she said and gestured him to the edge of the pool. "Rest your head on the floor here, like this," she showed him. "The water will lift you up, so that you can lay on its surface and enjoy the feeling."

He followed her example, and she was right. There he was, floating on the caressing water, his eyes nurtured by the beautiful sight of the ripples reflecting upon the walls, and his ears full of the silent splashes.

"It is beautiful," he said quietly. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Do you see why people want to strip off their clothes in here? This is a place where you meet the natural, they want to get into a state of mind as close to it as they can – and nakedness helps."

"I'm still not bathing in here naked, say what you like."

"You keep misunderstanding me, Jonathan. I was just trying to explain why other people choose to do it."

"Ok, I'm sorry."

"You should trust people more, I wasn't trying to set you up."

"Maybe I'd have an easier time believing you if you weren't so…" he stopped, lost for words.

"So what?"

"Beautiful. Inviting. Sensual," he tried.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. I didn't mean for you to get carried away. Maybe we should…"

"Yes, I believe we should," he nodded, and reached for her, meeting no resistance.

"I was going to say we should go…" she whispered to his neck as his hands wandered about her back until one of them felt the clasp of her bra and undid it.

"My point exactly. Go for it."

"Not what I meant."

"I know," he smiled faintly before the urge to taste her lips became too strong for him to resist.

"You're right, I did get carried away," he said once they were dressed again and on their way back to the hotel.

"So did I," she dismissed the thought.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she nodded.

"You're not angry with me…?"

"Not in the least," she confirmed. "In fact, I was about to suggest a dinner together," she smiled with mild provocation in the expression.

"What if we get carried away again?"

"I doubt the dining hall atmosphere will let us get that far."

"True," he agreed.

They met there half an hour after they arrived back at the hotel, which gave both of them enough time to have a shower and change. Jonathan put on a loose white shirt and brown shorts, and found Timea waiting for him at the entrance to the hall, very pretty in her pale pink summer dress printed with darker pink blossoms and leaves.

The dinner was spent in pleasant conversation and it felt like the incident in the spa never happened. It only brought them close enough together to enable them to talk about personal matters, but overall their dialogue was enwrapped more in friendship than anything else. After the experience from his last visit to the planet, Jonathan was naturally somewhat suspicious of the girl, nevertheless the suspicion dissipated as the evening progressed.

They left the dining hall just after dusk, and Jonathan offered to accompany her to her room (out of sheer curiosity – she knew where his room was, while he had no idea whether hers was a floor above or below his). It turned out it was on the upper floor, and it was there that even the remains of his suspicion left him when he saw the room was directly over his. She must have made the mistake for real, it didn't have to be planned. After all, she had looked genuine last night. Last night… it seemed like ages ago.

She unlocked the door.

"Breakfast tomorrow?" he suggested.

"That will be great," she smiled.

"Thanks for the lovely day," he expressed his gratitude in both words and a soft brief kiss he gave her on the cheek. "Good night, Timea."

"Good night."

She was still smiling. He was halfway through the corridor, when he heard her voice call out:

"Jonathan!"

He turned round and took a few steps towards her.

"I _was_ trying to set you up."

"What? When?"

"In the spa… when I said I wasn't trying to set you up… I was. I'm sorry," she gave him an apologetic smile, but didn't expect him to react anyhow to this confession. She just wanted to tell him the truth, and she did.

"Good night," she wished him again and vanished in her room before he could say anything.

She leaned against the door. Should she have said it? Maybe she should have left it where it was, the friendship felt nice enough… But friends should be sincere to one another, and Timea was that kind of a person - she just had to, she owed it to him, whatever the consequences.

The consequence was a loud knock on the door, which hit her ears really hard since she was still leaning on it. She spun round and answered it. A moment later she found herself pressed against the wall, particles of passion streaming into her body from Jonathan's lips that took hold of hers. Feeling almost paralyzed, she managed to make her arms wrap around him and pull his body even closer to hers. He kicked the door closed.

"Ok?" he whispered when he paused for breath and noticed she was frozen, with a trace of shivering.

"I am, yes," she nodded quickly. "Don't stop, please…"

He decided to go easier on her. Very gently, he touched her lips again with his, but only for a moment, before they slid down the side of her neck to her shoulder. Her skin was velvet-soft and radiated sweet, intoxicating scent. He lifted her up, and showering her face with gentle kisses, carried her to the bed. He kneeled above her, and slowly, watching his hands as they went up her body, he took off her dress. She seized the opportunity to help him out of his shirt, and when he leaned down to her to join their lips again, she turned him over, unbuttoned his shorts and helped him get rid of them too. Rush of excitement ran through his body from wherever she lay her hands. He was lost, there was no way of stopping him now, even if this girl was a deceiver, a spy, a conspirer, he couldn't leave anymore, not until he knew every inch of her skin by heart, not until he explored every bit of her physical existence with his lips, his tongue and his hands. And when he did, he only craved for more.

They made love. Afterwards, she was smiling, lying in his arms, her forehead against his cheek. It all felt surreal, unbelievably good.

"You wanted me. You did want me…" she whispered. There was genuine surprise in the way she said those words.

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"I thought you really just got carried away in the spa…"

"I did. But I wanted you all the same. More than anything."

"Can you stay the night?"

"I don't see why not."

"Won't your dog miss you?"

"He'll be fine."

"Thanks, Jonathan."

"You seem scared," he observed.

"Well, I don't want you to disappear now. I need you here."

"That sounds like there's something going on that I don't know about…"

"No, no, I just meant, I need you like someone needs medicine. We're each other's perfect temporary cure for loneliness, don't you think?" she explained.

"Is _that_ what I am to you?"

"You're not… just someone I'm using," she shook her head. "When I say you're my cure, I mean you're the best thing in my life right now."

"Temporarily," he reminded her.

"What do you want from me, Jonathan?" she sighed. She sat up, and wrapped the light blanket around her body, since what she was about to say seemed too serious to be delivered naked. "I think I love you."

He did not expect this.

She laughed bitterly and went on: "But that's about all I can do about it, isn't it? Tell you how I feel… You belong on that ship of yours, and I belong here. There's nothing more we can do for each other than spend the few days you have left here together, and then remember them for the rest of our lives. Even if I loved you till the ends of universe, it wouldn't make the slightest difference."

"It makes all the difference," he whispered hoarsely. "Come here," he reached for her and hid her in his arms, as if he was protecting her against the whole reality – and her despair.

She woke up in the middle of the night to find he was no longer lying beside her, but the bright moonlight revealed his figure sitting on the balcony, immersed in a book. She got up, found her sandals and joined him under the starlit sky.

„Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

„Not much," he admitted. „But this proved a nice experience too."

„What are you reading?" she ventured, and accepted the implied invitation to sit down on his knees and rest her head on his shoulder.

„It's a collection of poems from Earth, a few hundred years old. It's called Chamber Music, by someone named James Joyce."

„Can you read it to me? I'll understand if I hear it..."

„Sure," he nodded.

She listened attentively as he softly recited, at times closing her eyes to enjoy the sound of the words, but mostly watching the night landscape that corresponded so well with what he read to her:

„At that hour when all things have repose,

O lonely watcher of the skies,

Do you hear the night wind and the sighs

Of harps playing unto Love to unclose

The pale gates of sunrise?

When all things repose, do you alone

Awake to hear the sweet harps play

To Love before him on his way,

And the night wind answering in antiphon

Till night is overgone?

Play on, invisible harps, unto Love,

Whose way in heaven is aglow

At that hour when soft lights come and go,

Soft sweet music in the air above

And in the earth below.."

And dawn came creeping up the horizon.


End file.
